"My name is Morgan, I drive towards the waves. Me and my companion are infected."


    He spoke out loud at the sky zooming past him. His lower body had disappeared from his mind, yet Morgan refused to look down. His neck and ears itched, yet he refused to scratch.


    "My wife is dead, my friends are dead. But I am alive."


    The car passed a large billboard depicting a coastal town with a sunny sky. The opposite of what he now saw, there were heavy clouds in the background, and no town yet. Rain would be welcome however, now his entire body begged for water. After he reached the waves, he would go for a short swim.


    "My name is Morgan, I drive towards the waves. Me ah-"


    A stream of black goop erupted from his mouth, splattering over the steering wheel. Dripping down onto the floor where it had formed a small puddle, just like the girl. Must be third time this day, his stomach probably did not feel to well. Morgan wiped some droplets off of the window with a rag, seeing that almost all of his nails had fallen out. Not a problem, an accident.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site."My name is Morgan.."


    -plop!- Suddenly, he could hear nothing but static in his right ear, as if he put it into a sea shell. Warm fluid rolled down his neck, Morgan''s fists clenched the steering wheel.


    "My name.."


    Just keep your feet on the gas pedal, just drive, drive and drive. The roads are empty, the world is empty. Nothing but driving matters anymore.


    "The waves.."


    His tongue felt heavy, his teeth were no longer where they were supposed to be. It was warm.


    "Tche wavesch..."


    Perhaps he could still grab the gun? Perhaps he was too far gone?


    "Wsasches..."


    it wasn''t right, lord, was it? He would make it, he would, he fucking would. He would make it, he would. For her, for him, for them.


    This was no lie, but the honest truth.